ry and his
comrades set forth again ahead of the army. Simon Kenton went with them.

The six stole forward. They were quite sure that Timmendiquas would have
out sentinels, but neither he, the other chiefs, nor the renegades would
anticipate so swift a counter stroke.

The country was rough, but they made good progress, flitting forward in
a silent file. Cry of wolf and hoot of owl came now and then to their
ears, but they did not believe that they meant anything save the
announcement from warrior to warrior that all was well.

They managed to come without detection, within several hundred yards of
the camp, where they ascended a little hill and could see the low flare
of light from the fires.

"I don't think we should try to get any closer," said Kenton. "We might
run into a nest of 'em an' never get back. We've seen enough to know
that the army can get up pretty close, an' at least attack before the
savages are wholly ready. S'pose we start back."

Paul rose in obedience to the suggestion, but Henry at once pulled him
down again.

"Somebody's coming," he whispered, and the six lay still in the bushes.

They heard light footsteps, and three men, or rather two men and a boy,
emerged from the shadows. The three were seeking the easiest path, and
they marked where the trees and bushes were scarcest. It was with a
shivering feeling of repugnance and anger that Henry recognized them,
and the same feeling animated his comrades. They were Simon Girty,
Blackstaffe, and Braxton Wyatt, and the three were talking, not loudly,
but in tones that the hidden six could hear distinctly.

"The attack will be begun again to-morrow night," Girty was saying, "an'
it's going to be a success. Whatever you may say about him, Timmendiquas
is a general, and I never before saw the Indians worked up to such a
pitch. They were singing and dancing for hours to-day, an' I believe
they'd now go through a lake of fire an' brimstone to get at that
fleet."

"We'll let the Wyandots lead the way," said Blackstaffe.

"We certainly will," said Girty.

Then the two older men looked at each other and laughed, a low horrible
laugh that made the flesh of Henry and Paul creep.

"Yes," said Girty, "we'll let the Wyandots lead, and then the Shawnees
and Miamis and the others. We'll take our part, but I think some of
these warriors can be spared more readily than we can."

Braxton Wyatt laughed, too, when he understood.

"That's good policy it seem